Rakasha
by Vespera1
Summary: Something is stalking the streets of New York, craving new sensations, hunting new experiences. New Chapter! Finally!
1. Prologue

AN: Welcome ladies and gents while I iron out another tale involving everybody's favorite terrapins. As usual, it'll be slow but I'll get there eventually! I don't own the turtles, their friends, enemies, relatives or pets. They belong to Mirage, don't sue me. On with the show!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
New York. They call it the city that never sleeps. Amanda shivered and increased her pace a little. I It certainly wasn't living up to its reputation tonight/I she thought as she glanced around the deserted streets. The echo of her high heels on the cracked pavement only heightened the effect.  
  
Autumn had arrived with a vengeance, and the October wind howled between the buildings, picking up street trash and whirling it round and round in dizzying spirals. She tugged down the hem of her skirt in a futile attempt to cover a few more inches of skin.  
  
Amanda knew it was silly to be wearing the tight little leather mini in this weather, but she just couldn't bring herself to wear jeans when Tony had such a thing for long legs. IOf course,/I she thought caustically II actually have to find Tony for this to be worth it./I Jillian had sworn that she'd seen him, and more than once, at a little hole- in-the-wall club down here, and that it would be the perfect place to get noticed by him.  
  
So here she was, wandering deserted streets at close to midnight, trying to find a nightclub that should have been three streets over and wasn't, in less clothes than she was comfortable with. A chill wormed its way down her spine. Almost deserted.  
  
Clearly she could hear the sound of bootheels behind her. She almost took them to be her own footsteps echoing back to her, except whoever it was had a slower pace than she did. Amanda moved a little faster, and turned the first corner she came to. Maybe it was a coincidence. Someone out for a late night stroll. The footsteps followed her around the corner, no closer than before, but no farther away either. Crap.  
  
Amanda glanced over her shoulder, attempting to make it look casual, hoping to catch a glimpse of her pursuer. She cursed her timing. The lighting was wrong. He had just passed out of the pool of light cast by a streetlamp, leaving her only with basic impressions. Tall and slim, he walked with his hands in his pockets, a slow, deliberate stride. The wind gusted past her, bringing other sounds with it. The creak of old leather, the jingle of the jacket's buckles. White teeth and red eyes flashed in the darkness. Waitaminute. IRed/I eyes?  
  
Incredulously she turned back and looked again. He stopped under the next streetlamp, almost as if he were posing for her inspection. Black hair, cut and styled in a preppy little short that was at odds with his wardrobe of leather and denim. Again a flash of white teeth as he smiled, but no red glow from his eyes. He licked his lips, and started forward again.  
  
IShit! So he isn't a ghost, but he's still after me! Get a grip girl!/I Amanda spun and decided that discretion was the better part of valor. She bolted. It was hard to run in high heels, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins was up to the challenge. Streets and alleys flashed by, fleeting images of parked cars and dark storefronts. She looked wildly for someone, anyone other than the person following her, but there wasn't a single soul around. A stitch grew in her side as she ran, robbing her of breath, and forcing her to curl around it trying to ease the pain. Finally she stopped, breath catching in half formed sobs, unable to run any farther. Limping, she ducked behind a dumpster in an alley, hiding herself from the street.  
  
Amanda slumped, the cool metal of the dumpster against her back and tried to get her breathing under control. IScrew Tony./I She thought. IThis has been a hell of a night, and I just want to go home./I She stilled and listened, forcing her breathing to slow. Nothing. All she could hear was the distant wail of a siren. No bootheels on pavement, no creaking of old leather. The tension ran out of her like water. Safe.  
  
She looped her purse over her shoulder again, and pushed away from the shadows, determined to find a payphone and get a taxi out of here. Already she was going over her adventure in her head, planning on telling the girls in the office about her brush with danger. Amanda rounded the corner, and walked directly into someone's chest.  
  
"Oh! I'm." her voice trailed off with a breathy squeak as strong hands crushed her arms. She felt the blood drain from her face as she met his eyes.  
  
Like a cats eyes, they reflected back all available light, except instead of the familiar feline green, they flashed crimson. "Well hello beautiful." His voice was husky, nearly a whisper. "What's a body like yours doing in a place like this?"  
  
"Please, please don't hurt me." Amanda could feel the tears burn down her cheeks as her heart hammered against her ribcage.  
  
"Hurt you? Don't be silly. We're just going to be very, Ivery/I close friends." His grip tightened on her arms, and he gently brought his face down to hers.  
  
Amanda was drowning. Black ice poured from his mouth into hers, seeping into her, invading every pore, every cell. She struggled to escape, desperately attempting to wrench herself away from the viscous feel of what was crawling into her. IOh God, please, this can't be happening. Monsters don't exist, they don't, they don't, they don't../I with a despairing cry, she fled shrieking into the void, abandoning her claim on flesh as she sought refuge.  
  
Her body reached up and placed both hands on his face, holding her attacker close to prolong the kiss. He began to shake, then spasm, and finally fell limp at her feet, eyes open and staring, a stream of spittle trailing down his chin.  
  
Amanda smiled, and knelt beside him. She pulled his arms from the jacket and shrugged it on. When she spoke, her voice had taken on a husky tone and her eyes reflected scarlet.  
  
"Gentlemen, the bitch is back."  
  
Accompanied by the creak of old leather and the sharp stattaco of high heels on pavement, Amanda disappeared into the streets of the city that never sleeps. 


	2. Chapter 1

**My humblest apologies ladies and gentlemen. real life got in the way in a BIG way. I'm working on it, and I haven't forgotten this story. Thanks to all those who've been on my ass about this, and special thanks to Kyabetsu for beta-ing it for me!**  
  
Raphael had been in a mood ever since they'd left the lair. He still moved as silently as ever, unseen, from shadow to shadow, but to his brothers he left an air of palpable discontent in his wake. Michaelangelo opened his mouth several times to speak to him, but each time shut it again without actually saying anything. Mike knew he was the best at defusing his brother when he was in these moods--to the point where it was nearly expected out of him, but much of his success involved knowing when not to get involved. He wanted to help, but he wasn't suicidal.  
  
Donatello kept his head down and moved quietly as well. He wasn't particularly happy about being here either. He'd planned on spending the evening working on a particularly complex algorithm he was writing. RectangleHard had been very enthusiastic about the sample program he'd sent in six months ago, and had requested a more complex gaming engine from him. If this impressed them, and he was certain it would, he'd have a real, honest-to-god, full-time job. Green skin and a shell wouldn't interfere with telecommuting, and he'd be programming the latest and greatest games from-  
  
Leonardo hissed at Donatello, snapping his brother's attention back to the task at hand. Don flushed, and dropped his eyes. He shouldn't have been caught napping like that. Leo was going to chew him out for sure when they got back to the lair and with good reason. He may not want to be here, but that wasn't an excuse for daydreaming.  
  
Leonardo kept his eyes on Donatello for a moment, before looking forward again. It wasn't like this was just an exercise run. Splinter had sent them out here for a specific reason. They were hunting; his eyes flicked over his brothers, and his lips pursed--some more enthusiastically than others. They'd all had other plans for the evening, but Sensei had called them together.  
  
Their living room was dim, lit by candles across most of the flat surfaces in the room. The furniture was a mismatch of Goodwill rejects and dumpster diving specials, with some ingenious fixes and repairs to make it useful again. The television sat in lone splendor on the other side of the room, a cracked case, and with a tuning knob that needed to be turned with a pair of pliers. The stained concrete walls had been covered over with wall hangings and posters, an incongruous mix of old and new. A traditional Japanese wall scroll of bamboo, painted beautifully in watercolors rested next to an Iron Maiden poster, next to a towel with a large picture of a cartoon sun on it hanging from a curtain rod. Splinter sat in his chair, the one piece of furniture in the room that was still in good condition, and placed back in the corner, under the most reliable electric lamp in the room, although it was currently off.  
  
Splinter was much like the room itself, a study in contradictions. His muzzle was shot through with gray fur, a salt and pepper look against the dark brown of the rest of his coat. His eyes were sharp, black points of obsidian that seemed to miss very little, although his teeth were dull and yellow, as opposed to sharp and white as they'd been in his youth. His hands were curled loosely around the walking stick he carried, no hint in his face of how much pain it caused him to straighten his fingers completely, but he sat tall in his chair, back unbowed.  
  
Splinter surveyed the four kneeling in front of him, and settled back into his seat, ignoring the slight twinge his arthritis gave him. "Have you been watching the news recently?" He asked softly. The four looked up at his voice, and he met their eyes each in turn.  
  
Michaelangelo gripped his tongue in his teeth, a faraway look on his face as he sorted through the various television programs he'd seen recently, trying to determine if reality shows could be described as news. Leonardo met his eyes squarely, his expression saying that no he hadn't been watching the news, and was now waiting attentively for where this discussion was leading, certain that there would be a point to it. Donatello had been following the news, but using his computer, not the local stations, and that gave him a more global take on what was happening in the world. He assumed that Splinter was interested in something local, but could not come up with anything that he thought might interest their master. Raphael's expression was unreadable, his eyes steady on Splinters own. If he knew anything about what Splinter was getting at, as usual he kept his own council.  
  
Leonardo glanced around at his brothers then spoke for them as a group. "Not recently Sensei. There's something we need to know about happening?" He felt that was a reasonable assumption, given Splinter had asked about it after all.  
  
"I believe so Leonardo." Splinter ignored Raphael rolling his eyes. "Recently, there have been stories of missing people in the news. I realize that living in New York, missing people are hardly a rarity. And indeed, many of these people have been found again."  
  
He paused, and again looked at each of his students. Attentive, bored, curious, and impatient. Raphael spoke into the silence. "If they've been found, then they aren't missing, are they sensei?"  
  
Leonardo whirled on his brother. "Raphael! Show respect to Master Splinter."  
  
Splinter started talking again before the argument escalated to the point where both would ignore him in favor of beating on each other. Raphael glared at Leo, but even he wouldn't outright interrupt Splinter when he was actually speaking. "Yes Raphael, they are no longer missing, however they are no longer whole either." Certain he'd recaptured their attention, he continued. "When found, between a week and three weeks of having disappeared, these people are. damaged. Not hurt in a physical sense, but they are no longer able to care for themselves, in fact, do not seem to be aware of anything outside themselves. It is as if, there is nothing of the self left, only the body. An uninhabited shell."  
  
Michaelangelo smirked at the pun Splinter had inadvertently made, but the smirk slid off his face as he actually considered what he was saying. Just a body left. No soul, no personality, no life. Following that sobering thought was more curiosity. What did Splinter expect them to do about it? It was obvious there was something, or he wouldn't be telling them about it.  
  
"The reason I am discussing this with you my sons, is I am greatly disturbed by this, and have reason to believe that the source of this damage is not natural. For the last several weeks I have felt something in my meditations, something disturbing. something hungry. It is my belief that these men and women have fallen victim to an oni." He watched for their reactions. They weren't long in coming. Leonardo blinked in surprise, and Raphael let a snort of disbelief out, although did not vocalize anything further. Michaelangelo looked almost confused and, Donatello was openly skeptical. Splinter sighed. "My sons. I realize that some of you do not believe such a creature is real. However, I do, and I feel it is a danger, to the people of the streets above, and to us as well. You will find out who is behind the unfortunate state of the victims discovered so far. Have I made myself clear?"  
  
So here they were, leaping rooftops, hunting a Japanese demon they weren't even sure existed, never mind knew where to find it if it was real. Splinter had presented a compelling argument. Leo had to admit it, even if only to himself. Three months, nearly a dozen people in the hospital, all in comas. No sign of physical harm, none of them having shown any signs of waking up. They were all young, in their physical prime, but nothing else connecting them to each other. Race, sex, hair color, eye color. it all seemed random.this one with family, that one living alone. The only thing that seemed to connect them at all was the atavistic shiver that crawled up his spine when he read through those stories in the news archives: a flash of something with each name, something hard to describe, hunger, curiosity, an almost alien detachment.  
  
He suppressed a shiver, remembering ghost stories Splinter had told them when they were younger. Of gaki, creatures of smoke and mist that subsisted on substances ranging from the scent of wine, to the human soul. He'd decided long ago that those ghost stories were his Sensei's way of keeping him and his brothers from straying too far from home when they were younger, but now, he was no longer sure if that's all they were.  
  
A glance at the sky told him how late it was. They'd been out here for hours, and nothing to show for it. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for. If it was a creature of mist and smoke, how did you hunt it? Track it? How did it hunt? Until they figured out what its choices were, they were running blind. He brought them all to a halt on another rooftop, and faced the other three, speaking quietly. "Let's call it a night guys. We'll look again tomorrow."  
  
"Look for what Leo? What exactly are we trying to find out here?" Raphael's voice was openly scornful. Leo turned his eyes to him, not betraying that he'd been asking himself the same question moments earlier. Instead, he reacted to Raphael's tone.  
  
"Something different, anything strange. Even you should be able to feel something wrong if we get near this creature."  
  
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean Leo?"  
  
"That maybe if you at least pretended to pay attention when Splinter was trying to teach you to use your mind, you'd have a shot of recognizing danger that wasn't wearing a flashing sign."  
  
Raphael growled low in his throat, and his head dropped slightly, so he was looking at Leo from beneath his lowered brows. He was smiling. On him, it wasn't an expression that indicated he was happy. "So Mama's Boy doesn't know either, huh? You could have just said so."  
  
Leonardo shifted his feet, going from relaxed to ready with a minute change in his balance. "Raph." it was a definite warning.  
  
"Oh drop it Leo, you don't have a clue what the hell you're looking for, and I want to hear you admit it."  
  
Donatello traded glances with Michaelangelo. They didn't even need to discuss it anymore they'd been through this so many times. Mike moved closer to Raph, and Don surreptitiously took a step closer to Leo. Don wasn't sure how many times he'd separated his brothers, usually with Mike's help, but occasionally with nothing but his bo to pry the two apart. "Are you two-"  
  
Leonardo didn't even acknowledge that Don had begun to speak. "We're hunting an oni, Raph. We're looking for something that's sucking the souls out of people. If you'd get your head out of your ass long en-" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence either as Raph lunged for him.  
  
That was what Mike and Don had been waiting for. Leo was moving forward to meet Raph's attack when he was blocked by Don's bo, and Mike got an arm around Raph's elbow, bringing him up short, pulling it tight behind his shell. "Dudes. it's late. Do you really want to spend what's left of the night dodging cops again?" Mike glanced at his feet, and the apartment block beneath them.  
  
The reminder was enough. Raph twisted out of Mike's hold with a snarled swear, and stood straight again. Last time he and Leo had gone at it outside, they'd woken up half the building beneath them, and barely made it out without being seen. If Splinter had ever heard about it. "I'm outta here." Raph stalked to the edge of the roof, and flipped himself over onto the fire escape.  
  
"Raphael! Get back here!" Leonardo hissed. He was completely ignored. "Damn him!" He turned to the other two.  
  
"Lets go." Spine stiff, Leo stalked in the opposite direction Raph had taken, towards home. 


End file.
